


it's gonna be a night (to remember)

by biremuslupin



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Canon Compliant?, F/M, Promposals, alternate uses for reusable starbucks cups, blue drives the pig and gansey finds that very sexy, bluesey goes to prom, i gave blue friends that r girls because it's what she deserves, richard "horndog" gansey iii, short king gansey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:14:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/biremuslupin/pseuds/biremuslupin
Summary: When he opens the door, he is not expecting to find Blue sat atop the Pig, a cardboard paper sign almost blocking her entirely from view. His eyes widen at the sight of the sign, reading “Don’t be a Pig, come to prom with me,” in bright orange bubble letters. There’s a printout of a cartoon pig glued to the board that’s threatening to peel off of the paper and fall to the ground. Blue hops down from the Pig, looking up at Gansey, still standing in the doorway.“Prom?” She calls to him, and he laughs, starting toward her. She reaches behind her to pick up a bouquet of an assortment of flowers he’s seen growing in her backyard, and holds it out to him, smile matching his.
Relationships: Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent
Comments: 15
Kudos: 81





	it's gonna be a night (to remember)

The first time the idea of prom is mentioned, Blue and Gansey are in her bedroom, socked feet pressed against her headboard. Their thighs are pressed together, as her bed is hardly big enough for modesty, and they’re well past the need for modesty anyway. Gansey has been reading the same page in his econ textbook for the last ten minutes. He thinks Blue is having more success reading the worn copy of _ Little Women  _ she’s been assigned for her lit class, as she, at least, is turning the pages. 

He closes his textbook and turns to look at her. Her lips are moving as she reads, and he knows he can’t, but he thinks, here, in this bedroom that is so quintessentially  _ Blue _ , he would risk death a third time just for the chance to press his lips to hers once more. Unfortunately, though, he knows Blue values his life more than she values his desire to be as close to her as possible, and he knows that his attempting to kiss her would end in her shoving him off the bed. 

“You’re staring,” she says, not looking up from her book.

“Yeah,” Gansey replies. He doesn’t look away from her, although he does sit up. He turns so his back is to her headboard and crosses his legs under him.

“My school doesn’t have a prom,” he says, and the statement makes absolutely no sense in the moment. They’re  _ reading _ , what the hell does a dance have to do with anything?  _ Subtle, Gansey, _ he thinks with a grimace. “On account of the whole all boys thing.”

Blue looks up at that. “Do you  _ want _ to go to a prom?” One of her eyebrows raises, and Gansey thinks she must be getting lessons from Calla. He doesn’t think he has strong enough facial muscles to raise a single eyebrow, but he doesn’t try it out at that moment, lest he look like a fool and completely derail the conversation. 

“Is that book good?” he asks in response. He doesn’t want to deal with the sting of Blue telling him just how many horrid things she would rather do instead of attending a dance with him. He knows she loves him, but he also knows that she loves the reputation she’s worked hard to earn around her school, the way everyone sees her as lightyears ahead of them, always looking to the next thing. She’s probably been over the trivialities of high school, prom included, since she was about ten years old. 

Blue smiles at his awful attempt at changing the subject, but doesn’t comment on it, instead diving into a rant about Meg and her attempts at silencing her sister’s sense of expression. 

\- 

Gansey is at his desk, covering his calc homework with drawings of snowglobes advertising the various places he’s spoken with Blue and Henry about traveling to, when his phone rings. It’s from Blue, so he answers immediately. “Jane! How was school?” 

“Shitty,” she responds, but he can tell she’s grinning on the other end of the line. “You busy?” 

Gansey is busy, technically, but he responds that no, not at all, and he can pick her up right now, if she likes. He stands from his desk, not bothering to clean up the mess of paper spread across it. It’ll be there when he gets back. He grabs his keys, slides his phone into the front pocket of his Chinos, and starts toward the front door.

When he opens the door, he is not expecting to find Blue sat atop the Pig, a cardboard paper sign almost blocking her entirely from view. His eyes widen at the sight of the sign, reading “Don’t be a Pig, come to prom with me,” in bright orange bubble letters. There’s a printout of a cartoon pig glued to the board that’s threatening to peel off of the paper and fall to the ground. Blue hops down from the Pig, looking up at Gansey, still standing in the doorway. 

“Prom?” She calls to him, and he laughs, starting toward her. She reaches behind her to pick up a bouquet of an assortment of flowers he’s seen growing in her backyard, and holds it out to him, smile matching his.

“Of course,” he says softly, taking the flowers from her. He thinks, once again, that he wouldn’t mind risking his life to kiss her. He thinks it might ruin the moment, though, so he refrains, instead taking the sign from her as well and tucking it under his arm. “I didn’t think you wanted to go.”

“Senior year and all that. Gotta make these memories while I still can,” she says with a shrug. “Also, I think I’m obligated to show off my hot, Aglionby boyfriend at least once before I graduate. It’s in a rulebook somewhere.”

Gansey nods gravely. “Well, we can’t go around breaking rules now, can we?” His facade falls immediately when he thinks about the flowers in his hand, the sign still under his arm, the girl standing opposite him. “You know I love you, right?” 

It’s not the first time he’s said it, and Blue is very aware of how much he loves her, so she replies with a roll of her eyes and a punch to the shoulder. “I know, loser. You have a vase for those? Or, like, an empty milk carton?” 

“I’m sure I have something,” he replies, leading the way back into Monmouth. He finds a reusable Starbucks cup in the sink and cleans the remains of a latte out of it before filling it with water for the flowers. 

He sets the flowers down on the counter, and Blue beams. 

-

When the day of rolls around, Gansey is standing in front of a less than enthusiastic audience of Adam, Henry, and Ronan as he tries to decide which tie to wear. Ronan, who’d told Gansey he ought to strangle him with the ties for asking him which tie he thinks most closely matches the picture Blue sent of her dress, has long since checked out. Adam has repeatedly told Gansey that they all look the same (“Honestly, Gansey, do you really think anyone will notice if your tie is periwinkle or amethyst?”), but he’s still trying his best. Henry, however, is bordering between being helpful and being a nuisance. (“Her dress seems more  _ heather _ than periwinkle or amethyst, though, don’t you think?”)

Gansey opts for the periwinkle tie, and Ronan makes a show of pretending to shoot himself in the temple. Henry tells Gansey that he is to be home no later than midnight, and Ronan tells Henry that he better not be planning to hang around Monmouth “like some asshole” until Gansey gets back, which earns a wink from Henry and a “ _ Ronan” _ from both Adam and Gansey. Gansey offers the three boys a two-fingered salute before leaving, careful not to forget the bouquet of sunflowers he’d bought for Blue earlier or the corsage Henry had helped him pick out over the weekend, both of which he sets on the passenger seat before making his way to 300 Fox Way.

He parks the Pig and walks toward the door. He knows he has no reason to be nervous. He’s met Blue’s family before, thinks they rather like him, even. And yet, his palms are sweaty and his heart is racing. He rolls his eyes at his own stupidity, and switches the sunflowers from one hand to the other so he can wipe his palms off on his suit. He’s about to knock when Orla opens the door for him, not at all attempting to hide the way she looks him over.

“You’ve been standing out here for ten minutes already. You’re not  _ nervous _ , are you? It’s just  _ Blue _ .” He knows Orla means  _ it’s just Blue, no one special _ , but it’s comforting regardless. He takes it as  _ it’s just Blue, your girlfriend, who you have no reason to be nervous picking up _ . He stands up straighter, and Orla looks at him, unimpressed. “Are you wearing heels? You look taller.”

Gansey’s about to explain that he’s not wearing heels, he’s just got inlays in his shoes, which is perfectly normal, when Maura calls out from the kitchen to Orla to “leave Gansey alone and go be productive.” She rolls her eyes, but slinks up the stairs anyway. 

Gansey lets Maura take the sunflowers from him, and begins to tell her that he promises to have Blue home before midnight when he’s interrupted by a loud fake cough from the top of the staircase. Gansey’s eyes widen and he has to scramble to save the corsage from falling as he almost drops it at the sight of her.

“Nice tie,” she says with a smirk as she takes the corsage from him. “You know my dress is more of a heather, though, right?”

“Henry told you?” He asks, cheeks heating up just a bit. 

Blue shrugs. She turns to Maura expectantly, as if waiting for her to demand they take pictures.

“That’s hardly my thing, don’t you think?” Maura says with a smile. “Although, I do think Dean is looking for a camera, so don’t go too far.” She turns to go find a vase for the flowers, and Blue and Gansey are left alone for a single moment, a moment in which Gansey is still struggling to find the words to tell Blue how stunning she looks when Mr. Gray appears, camera in hand.

The idea that the former hitman has been searching the house for a camera to photograph his girlfriend’s daughter and her prom date is endlessly amusing, but no one comments on it. Mr. Gray ushers them into the sitting room, where Blue allows him exactly five pictures, before all but dragging Gansey out of the house, shouting into its depths that “We’ll be back eventually! Don’t wait up!”

It doesn’t take much convincing for Blue to persuade Gansey to let her drive. She knows where they’re going and he doesn’t, she reasons, already sliding into the driver’s seat and going about moving the seat closer to the steering wheel before he can get a word in edgewise. Gansey doesn’t mind, though. Blue’s an alright driver, and what she lacks in skill, she more than makes up for in the way Blue driving the Pig makes Gansey feel. Gansey isn’t particularly religious, but he feels as though watching Blue drive his car is the closest he’s ever gotten to believing. He knows that it’s probably blasphemous, to some degree, to compare the feeling people get when they enter a church or speak to their God to the feeling he gets when he watches his girlfriend drive his car, but worshipping comes in different forms, he supposes. God, that’s an embarrassing thought. Gansey buries his face in his hands for a moment, feeling the heat rising off his cheeks and willing it to go away. 

“I haven’t even started the car yet. I’m not a bad driver, Gansey,” Blue says, assuming he’s hiding his face out of fear and not a desire to hide his furious blush from her. 

“No, you’re not,” he says, voice muffled. 

“Thank you. What’s your problem, then?” She asks, reaching across the center console to peel his hands away. “Are you  _ blushing _ ?”

“Just drive,” Gansey says, mortified at the way his voice cracks as he does so. 

She does. 

Gansey reaches to pull his seatbelt on, and watches as Blue checks her mirrors before pulling onto the road and starting toward her school. Henrietta is a small town, not big enough for there to be a wide array of venues for proms to be held, and so Blue’s prom is being held in her school’s gym. It’ll probably have a lot of streamers and some cardboard cutouts or something, she’d told Gansey, but it’ll still be a gym. It won’t be some fancy Congress party, she’d said. Gansey doesn’t like fancy Congress parties all that much anyway. 

When they pull up to her school, Gansey’s made aware of the fact that Blue isn’t joking when she calls the Pig an eyesore. There’s students posing for pictures and checking in at a table by the front doors to the gym, and he watches as they all pause in their movements, watching to see who’s driving such an obviously  _ Aglionby  _ car. If Blue notices (Gansey is sure she does), she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she focuses on pulling into the parking spot she’s found in one go, so she doesn’t have to pull out and try again like she normally does. There’s too many eyes on her for that.

She turns the key and takes a deep breath, the only sign that she’s slightly nervous about going to a school dance with an Aglionby boy, before pushing open the driver’s side door and stepping out. Gansey follows suit. He meets her behind the car and she hands him his keys, which he tucks into the pocket of his suit jacket. He feels eyes on him, but doesn’t comment on them, instead draping an arm over Blue’s shoulders and smiling his winning politician’s son smile. Blue looks up at him and rolls her eyes at the sight, nudging him in the ribs. 

A boy with gelled back hair and a lime green suit whistles as he catches sight of Blue. “Didn’t think you’d show up, Sargent!” He calls to Blue and she wrinkles her nose. 

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world, Mahoney,” she calls back, and Gansey smiles fondly at her. He’s happy to be her arm candy for the night. He’s happy to be her arm candy for as long as she’ll have him, really. He hopes it’s a long time. 

They make their way to the check-in table and a girl with blonde hair tied into a very intricate updo and a dark blue dress that’s more sequin than fabric smiles up at them brightly, a smile that Gansey suspects might win her a Miss Henrietta award, if it hasn’t already. 

“I didn’t believe you were you actually coming!” She says to Blue, and Blue returns the smile with one of her own, albeit less bright. 

“Well, here I am,” she says, and Gansey chuckles softly. 

“Oh, and you have a date!” Miss Henrietta says, looking up at Gansey, her expression changing drastically. 

“Yes, Marianne, I do. I did pay for two tickets, didn’t I? Wouldn’t make much sense if I was going alone,” she responds, leaning forward to sign her name where Marianne is directing her to. 

“You don’t go here, though, do you?” She asks Gansey. 

“I don’t,” he replies with a polite smile. There’s a line forming behind them, and he feels as though it’s only fair to speed this along so the people behind them can get inside soon, too. 

“Aglionby?” 

“Yep,” he says, looking to Blue for an out. 

“That’s fascinating! Blue is the last person I’d expect to have one of  _ y’all _ on her arm, you know,” Marianne says, leaning forward as if she’s telling Gansey some big secret. 

“Yeah, I didn’t expect it either. I’ll see you inside!” Blue says, and for the second time that night, all but drags Gansey out of the line and into the gym. As Blue had said, It’s done up with streamers and balloons and there’s a photo booth in the corner with a backdrop meant to resemble a starry night sky, but despite all that, it is still very clearly a high school gym.

The deejay has already begun playing what Gansey can only assume to be songs from the Top 100, although he doesn’t know any of them. The dance floor is practically empty, a few people dancing here and there, but most people are seated at tables, waiting for friends or putting off heading to the dance floor until more people arrive. 

“Pictures?” Gansey asks, not at all ready to go out onto the dance floor. There’s still eyes on them, and while Gansey has known how to do a waltz since he was eleven, he’s not exactly trained in whatever it is the average high school senior does at their prom. He supposes it’s less about making squares with your feet and more about...throwing various body parts about. At least, that’s what he guesses by looking at the bolder students already on the floor. 

“Yes, let’s,” Blue agrees, eyeing the dance floor warily. There’s a line, but they wait it out, pointing out various props resting on the prop table to the left of the backdrop that they think the other would look absolutely ridiculous in. 

When they reach the prop table, Blue reaches for a glittery, orange, plastic cowboy hat and an oversized pair of red sunglasses and places them atop Gansey’s head and over his eyes respectively. 

“Yeehaw,” Gansey says, placing a pair of light up devil horns amidst Blue’s mess of curls. He’s not entirely sure what the theme of this prom is supposed to be, but at that moment, it doesn’t really matter. He’ll ask Blue later. 

Blue reaches for a sign (“#1 prom date!” it proclaims in bright yellow cursive) and Gansey takes her hand and leads her the few steps to the backdrop. 

Four pictures and three prop switches later, they’re being handed two photo strips and told to follow the photographer on Instagram as they’re all but pushed in the direction of the dance floor. 

“Uh,” Gansey says. 

“You’ve probably been trained to do the ballet since you could walk, don’t tell me you don’t know how to dance!” Blue shouts over the music. 

“Not like this!” Gansey shouts back, and Blue laughs. 

She reaches for Gansey’s hands and pulls them to her hips, guiding him. She’s pressed against him—whether because of the crowd or by choice, he can’t tell—and it’s all he can do to attempt to follow along. 

One song fades into two into three into five. Blue hasn’t complained, so Gansey supposes he’s not doing too bad. 

“This is the part where you offer to get me punch,” Blue says in between songs.

“Oh, right! Punch?” Gansey asks, not moving his hands from her hips. 

“Yes, please,” she replies. “I’m gonna find a table.”

“Okay.”

“Gotta let go of me if you’re gonna get us drinks, Gansey.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, horndog.” Blue detaches herself from Gansey and pats him on the chest before leaving the floor in search of space at a table. 

Gansey heads toward the punch bowl. He pulls two gold solo cups off of a stack near the bowl and reaches for the ladle, filling the glasses with the punch. He takes a sip from his own and turns to scan the gym in search of Blue. She’s sat at a mostly empty table, talking to a girl with bright pink hair that clashes with her green dress. The dress is almost the same shade as the suit the boy who’d called out to Blue was wearing, and he wonders if they came together. 

“There you are!” Blue says, smile growing at the sight of Gansey. He sets the cups down and sits next to her. “This is Ellie,” she adds. "Ellie, this is my boyfriend, Gansey.”

Gansey feels a sense of pride swell in him at her so willingly telling her schoolmate that he’s her  _ boyfriend _ . It’s a small thing, but it’s enough to bring a grin to his face. 

“Nice to meet you,” he says, extending a hand to Ellie. She shakes his, and he notes that her handshake is firm. Then he considers what a dumb thing that is to take note of. He’s at a school dance, not one of his mother’s parties. “I like your hair.”

“Thank you! I offered to dye Blue’s, but I think the bleach would probably damage it. Blue hair for Blue seems fitting, though, doesn’t it?” She leans forward to tuck a loose curl of Blue’s back into its place, and Gansey feels an odd pang of familiarity at the sight, but brushes it off. 

“It would be fitting,” he agrees, raising his cup to his lips. 

“If I choose to dye it, I’ll come to you, El, I promise,” Blue says, and Gansey thinks she’s being one hundred percent sincere. Blue’s never mentioned any friends from school, but Gansey thinks Ellie makes sense. A girl with green hair and a pink dress drops into the seat next to Ellie and hands her a cup and Gansey realizes that it must be intentional, and that Ellie definitely did not come to this dance with the boy from before. 

“You’re Gansey!” the green haired girl says, and Gansey nods in confirmation. “I’m Lauren. Blue’s told us about you, but I didn’t think you’d be here!”

Blue buries her face in her hands and Gansey rests his arm on the back of her chair, leaning forward. “I didn’t know Blue talks about me,” he says, although he’s speaking more to Blue than to Ellie or Lauren. 

Blue stands at that, grabbing Gansey’s hand. “Slow song! Let’s dance, Walt.”

“Walt?” Gansey asks, as they make their way back to the dance floor, waving goodbye to Ellie and Lauren.

“Yeah, because you can waltz, or whatever,” Blue responds, as if it were obvious. She finds a place on the floor that she’s happy with, and intertwines her fingers behind Gansey’s neck. His hands find her hips, and they move in time to the slow music. Blue smiles up at him, and Gansey has to use every ounce of willpower he has not to kiss her right there and hope he doesn’t suddenly fall and get trampled. 

It isn’t until the song is coming to a close that Gansey realizes that the floor is growing more and more empty. The deejay is calling for any final requests, and Blue is resting her head against his chest as they sway, and he loves her so much it hurts. 

“We should go,” Gansey says softly, and Blue nods. They make their way out of the gym and out into the cool night air. There’s a few people outside, waiting for rides or seeking a moment alone, but for the most part, they’re alone.

Gansey has been working up the nerve to say this for quite some time, and he knows Blue will call him a dumbass and point out the fact that the risks far outweigh the reward, but he doesn’t particularly care. He stops her just before she slips into the passenger seat.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks her, and she freezes, hand on the door handle. 

“You know that you can’t,” she says, and he can feel the hurt in her voice as she says it. 

“I have to,” he replies, and her breath catches. 

“Gansey.”

“Look, I died already, didn’t I? I’ll just...I’ll come back again. I’m good at that, remember?”

“Third time’s the charm,” she murmurs, and Gansey laughs. It’s a sad laugh, and Blue frowns at it.

“Fuck it,” he says. His voice comes out a whisper. He hadn’t meant for it to. 

Blue shakes her head, but she lets go of the door handle. She looks at him for a moment, then says, just as quietly as he had, “Fuck it.” 

She pulls him down and kisses him. They’ve kissed once before. That kiss was a sad kiss, a goodbye kiss, a kiss that packed everything they wanted to say to each other and everything they couldn’t say or didn’t even realize they wanted to say. 

This kiss...is different. It feels just as world ending as the first, but when Blue pulls away from Gansey, he’s fine. He’s no different than he was before, save the bit of dark purple smeared on the corner of his mouth. She kisses him again, and again, and again. And he’s alive. More alive than ever, he thinks, as he kisses back and kisses back and kisses back. 


End file.
